


The Captain America Effect

by DizzyDrea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:25:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: Seventy years after Steve Rogers went into the ice, he wakes up in Stark Tower to a whole new world. New York is bright and noisy and altogether more modern than he could have imagined, but it’s not the only thing that’s changed. He went into the ice the world’s only Super Soldier. He came out the first Sentinel of the modern age. But he wouldn’t be Captain America if he didn’t stir the pot a little, and with Tony Stark’s help, he’ll get his chance to make a real difference once more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my Little Black Dress projects this year at Rough Trade. It's taken me a while to edit and polish it, and while it's still not perfect, it's better than it was (typos are the bane of my existence, seriously). There's a lot of world-building in here, and a lot of talking about stuff, which makes me think that Muse isn't done with this particular 'verse. I'm not opposed to writing a sequel, but that's a long way off, so don't ask. 
> 
> Disclaimer: The Avengers and all its particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, Joss Whedon, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Steve Rogers came awake slowly, carefully taking stock of himself and his surroundings. He was warm, lying in a bed judging by the soft mattress under him and the soft covers over his body. The room was unfamiliar and quiet, but his attention caught on a heartbeat nearby. He stayed still, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scents around him

There wasn't the overwhelming smell of ammonia in the air that he'd normally associate with a hospital, and no beeps to indicate that he was hooked up to monitoring equipment, but he could feel devices attached to his skin that he had no explanation for. There was also a musky, slightly spicy scent in the air, one he'd normally associate with a man, but the scent was as unfamiliar as the room.

He squinted one eye open and saw the outline of his watcher in the dim light of the room. The silhouette looked slightly familiar. He tried adjusting his eyesight, but his eyes felt gritty and overused, so he gave up.

"Howard?" he asked, pushing himself up slightly in the bed.

The other man chuckled slightly. "More like Stark 2.0. JARVIS, lights to 25%, and ease into it."

Steve settled back onto the pillows and watched as the lights in the room revealed a man in his forties, with dark hair, a Van Dyke cut at some unique angles, and a pair of sharp brown eyes that reminded him of Howard Stark.

"I didn't think Howard had any brothers," Steve said. 

He winced a little, his voice sounding harsh to his own ears. It made him wonder how long he'd been out, and how long it had taken for the Allied Forces to rescue him.

"He doesn't," the other man said. "I'm Tony—Anthony Edward Stark. Howard's son."

"His son?" Steve asked as the shock rippled through him. "Just how long have I been out?"

"You were in the ice for 65 years, Cap," Tony said. "We pulled you up and thawed you out about a week ago, but you've been doing a passable imitation of Sleeping Beauty since then. Frankly, I wasn't convinced you were going to wake up."

"65 years?" Steve asked. "How is that even possible?"

"We think the serum slowed down your metabolism, which effectively put you in stasis," Tony said. "Your body basically protected itself, but we don't know how long that would have lasted."

"So, what year is it?"

"It's 2010," Tony said. "A whole new century, same old problems."

"Same problems?" Steve asked. "You mean, we didn't win the war?"

"Oh, we won the war," Tony said. He crossed his ankle over his knee and settled back. Steve got the feeling like he was about to be treated to 'story time'. "We won World War II. We won Korea, though I'm not sure you could call it winning, since they've never actually signed a peace treaty. We lost Vietnam and a whole bunch of other minor conflicts before a little thing called Desert Storm, where we kicked so much ass. Jury's still out on Iraq and Afghanistan, though I think it's probably asking too much for those folks to get along for the sake of self-governance." Tony shrugged. "But that's just me."

"Jesus," Steve muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "We thought if we won the war, that would be it. Maybe it was a little naïve to believe that war would just stop being necessary."

"Not naïve," Tony said. "More like optimistic. Your folks lived through the first World War and said the same thing. Truth is, humans are messy, and we don't always get along. It's a pipe dream to believe we won't get into a fight with the slightest provocation."

"Yeah, you definitely sound like Howard's son," Steve said, a wistful note in his voice. "Is he… did he…"

"Dear old Dad's still alive and kicking," Tony said. "He'd have been here, but it's past his bedtime, so I sent him home."

"Where's home?" Steve asked.

"Howard lives in Stark Manor, over on 5th. I have a penthouse here in the Tower, plus lab space and an office I never use. Still want to be close to it, mostly because it drives the Board nuts when I show up to meetings unannounced. You just can't buy entertainment like that."

"So, New York," Steve said, grateful that he could finally recognize something. "And this place? Doesn't look like any hospital I remember."

"Well, that's because it's not a hospital," Tony said. "Right now, you're in the infirmary in Stark Tower. I had it built specifically with Sentinels in mind, so it's neutral on the scent front, as well as using all Sentinel-approved fabrics for the sheets and furniture."

"Sentinel?" Steve asked. He had no idea what that word meant, but it resonated with him in a way that was both familiar and totally foreign.

"Yeah, turns out the Super Soldier Serum didn't so much create a Super Soldier as it woke up your latent Sentinel traits," Tony said. "Basically, a Sentinel is someone with five enhanced senses and a strong protection instinct."

"There's a bit more to it than that."

"Who's that?" Steve asked, looking around for the source of the voice.

"That," Tony said, "is JARVIS. He's the AI that runs the Tower and all my homes." At Steve's baffled look, Tony went on. "He's a really smart machine. J, introduce yourself."

"Captain Rogers, it is an honor to meet you," JARVIS said. "I hope that your stay with us will be comfortable. Should you require anything at all, you simply need to ask."

"Thanks," Steve said, still a bit in shock. A machine that could carry on a conversation? This new world he'd found himself in was so much different than the one he'd left. It was like it had been taken from the pages of one of the books or comics he'd read as a kid.

"So, anyway," Tony said, drawing Steve's attention back. "The building's been designed with a Faraday Cage embedded inside. It protects the building from being spied on from the outside, but it also protects you from being bombarded by outside noise. There're also heavy air scrubbers to filter out the smog. I wanted to make sure the whole place was Sentinel-friendly so people like you would have a refuge."

"It sounds like you built the whole building with me in mind," Steve said.

"Sort of. Howard made it his mission to find you and bring you home," Tony said. "Of course, we all believed you'd died, but you've shocked us all with your resiliency."

"So, are there more like me?" Steve asked. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, actually. He'd believed the formula to create more Super Soldiers had died with Erskine, but maybe someone else had figured it out.

"There are more Sentinels," Tony said. "Howard and Peggy found the first ones not long after V-E Day. The SSR became the default registry for Sentinels because they were the only ones looking for them. Eventually, the SSR became part of an organization called SHIELD, which is now the registry of record for all online Sentinels in the US."

"You don't sound so thrilled about that," Steve said.

"Eh," Tony said, shrugging his shoulders. "Howard—and by extension, Stark Industries—has been a major supplier of tech and weapons for SHIELD since its inception. They've made us a lot of money, but they're also autocratic and heavy-handed. Of course, it wasn't always like that. Howard and Peggy helped found SHIELD."

"Sounds like they stayed close after the war," Steve said. He was glad they'd had each other to lean on. His one worry, as the plane was descending into the Arctic, was that someone would look after Peggy. Not that she needed looking after, but he hated thinking of her alone.

"Yeah, you could say that," Tony said. He flashed a smile. "After my mother and Peg's husband died, Howard and Peggy got closer. They got married when I was in my twenties. She was a good step-mother. Never lectured me when I got falling-down drunk. She'd just give me this disappointed look. I hated that look."

"I remember that look," Steve said. "I hated it too."

"Plus, I got a step-brother out of the deal, although he may be worse than Peg was," Tony said. "At any rate, you have an apartment upstairs that's fully furnished and Sentinel friendly. I'll have JARVIS download some reading materials for you, so you can catch up on what you've missed." He got up and smiled. "It's good to have you back, Capsicle. Try to get some rest."

"I think I've had enough sleep for a while, but thanks," Steve said. He wasn't sure he could sleep with thoughts of all he'd missed swirling in his head.

His body, however, hadn't really gotten that memo. Almost as soon as Tony had left the room, he was drifting off to sleep.

~o~

Steve came awake to soft sunlight filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows in his room. Now that he could see it, he found it was nicer than any hospital room he'd ever been in. Soft whites and greens on the fabrics and the walls, deep wood furniture, and a couch and chairs in the corner. 

And, apparently, yet another voyeur watching him sleep.

"Should I apologize now for marrying your girl, Steve?"

"Howard?" Steve asked. He pushed himself up in the bed, startled when the head of the bed rose underneath him without his input. He tilted his head. "JARVIS?"

"Yes, Captain," JARVIS said. "I thought perhaps you would prefer to sit up for this conversation."

"Thanks," Steve said. He turned to his visitor, who was smirking in such a Howard Stark way that Steve no longer doubted that this white-haired old man was his friend. "So, you and Peggy, huh?"

"As I said, I'll apologize if you want me to, but it wasn't some great love story," Howard said. "We were both lonely after the deaths of our spouses. And after what seemed like a lifetime of orbiting each other, we knew each other well enough to have no illusions."

"Sounds romantic," Steve said with a chuckle. 

"You know me," Howard said with a twinkle in his eye. "I do enjoy fondue in all its many varieties."

Steve laughed. That had been a joke, back in the day. Steve had jokingly referred to one of Howard's dates as fondue, and it had stuck. Howard gave as good as he got, mostly because Steve wasn't a monk back in those days either, and Howard thought it was hilarious that the Defense Department's Golden Boy wasn't as innocent as they liked people to believe.

"Is that coffee?" Steve asked, catching the scent wafting from the cup Howard had clutched in his hand.

"Sure is," Howard said. "I'll even let you have a cup if you promise not to tell the doctor." Howard reached for the carafe Steve hadn't noticed was sitting on the bedside table. "Columbian Supremo," Howard said by way of explanation as he handed over the cup. "My own special blend. Tony drinks so much of it I had to actually buy the whole operation, just to keep him well-caffeinated."

"Mmmm," Steve hummed as the coffee slid down his throat. He hadn't had coffee this good in ages. 

"I brought some breakfast, if you think you can eat," Howard said, gesturing at the tray sitting next to the coffee.

Steve's stomach rumbled. "That sounds great, actually."

Howard pulled the tray table over and placed the plate on it, lifting the lid with a flourish. Eggs, bacon and sausage, toast. All his favorites. He dived in without even thinking about whether he should.

"So, is it just the Stark men that like watching me sleep?" he asked after he'd eaten a few bites. "Or have I had a parade of strangers through my room too?"

"No, just me and Tony," Howard said. He cocked his head. "Actually, I think my stepson sat with you for a while. Which would make him a stranger and a Stark."

"Peggy's son?" Steve asked. It hurt his heart to know she'd moved on without him, but at the same time, he was glad she'd found someone to love after he'd disappeared.

"I'd heard that Tony spilled all the details," Howard said. "He said you were pretty out of it. How much do you remember?"

"All of it," Steve said, glancing down at his plate before looking back up. "The serum didn't just enhance my body. Not that I was an idiot before Rebirth, but I got an IQ boost in addition to the enhanced speed, strength and recovery."

"I don't know if you realize this, but a lot of that was you," Howard said. "The serum was meant to unlock your Sentinel genetics. Erskine had read a great deal about Sentinels, and felt that they would be our best chance to win the war. He wasn't just looking for the right type of person, he was looking for the right type of genetics."

"So, you're saying I had this inside me all along?" Steve asked. "That I didn't need to go through the pain of Rebirth to become a Sentinel?"

Not that he regretted it. He didn't. Not even a little. He'd finally found a way to serve, and he'd done a lot more than he'd ever thought possible. No matter what the personal costs were, if he'd had to make the decision again, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Yes and no," Howard said. "According to Erskine's research, any defect would prevent the Sentinel traits from emerging. It was likely your asthma that kept you from manifesting as a Sentinel. So, the serum was really designed to fix your physical defects, which when added to the stress of the treatment, would force you to come online as a Sentinel."

"So, I wouldn't have come online naturally," Steve said. "Was Schmidt also a Sentinel?"

"Yes," Howard said. "We think so. And before you ask, it's likely that his defect was more… mental than physical."

"He was batshit crazy," Steve said, remembering the man's delusional ramblings in the minutes before he fell out of the plane.

Howard laughed. "So I hear. Then again, he'd have to be to work for Hitler."

"What happened to him?" Steve asked. "Hitler, I mean. Tony said we'd won the war, but not how or when."

"Germany surrendered in June 1945," Howard said. "Hitler committed suicide in his bunker in Berlin, as the Soviets were closing in. JARVIS'll have all the details, if you want to do a deep-dive on the world history you've missed."

"65 years," Steve said, leaning his head back. "You know, as I was going down in the plane, talking to Peggy, the one regret I had was not meeting her in New York for that dance. Not having a future to look forward to. We'd fought so hard and sacrificed so much, and I wasn't even going to get to enjoy it. It seems so selfish now."

"It's not selfish to want to go home to your girl and live a life you could only dream of during the war," Howard said. "Lots of guys we knew had the same dream."

"And yet, of the two of us, you're the one who ended up living the dream," Steve said softly. He didn't resent Howard, per se, but he was aware that the other man got to live the life Steve had wanted for himself.

Howard sighed. "My wife was killed in a car accident, but it wasn't really an accident. She was with my best friend and business partner, Obadiah Stane. They'd been carrying on an affair for a while, which I was mostly ignoring in favor of work. I was supposed to be the one going on that trip with her, but a last-minute shareholder meeting forced me to stay home. I got the call in a room full of stuffy assholes who were trying to tell me how to run my company. I told them all to go fuck themselves and left."

"I just bet you did," Steve said, snorting. He could still see the pain lingering on Howard's face, even after all these years. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I'm not going to lie and say it wasn't that bad," Howard said. "Because it was awful. But it was worse for Tony, because everything came out after she died. He resented her for abandoning him, and he resented me for not doing something about it sooner. Truth is, Maria and I weren't exactly a love match either. I married her because I wanted a son to carry on the name and one day take over the company from me."

"And there's nothing wrong with wanting those things, Howard," Steve said. "For as much as I regret not having them, at least you got the chance to have a family. And you have Tony now. He's so much like you, I thought it was you sitting in my room last night."

"Don't tell Tony that," Howard said on a chuckle. "He's tried all his life to differentiate himself from me. Says he doesn't want to be a carbon copy of the old man because no one would take him seriously if he was."

"He's probably not wrong," Steve said. "But there's something to be said for having your father around to raise you. I never did; my mother did the best she could, but—"

The door to his room opened, revealing a slim woman of Asian origin in a lab coat. She scowled at Howard, who looked mostly amused.

"I thought I told you he shouldn’t have solid foods until we knew how he was adapting to being out of stasis," the doctor said.

Howard just shrugged. "The man's been frozen for 65 years. I thought a hearty breakfast might do him some good."

"I don't normally have problems with my stomach," Steve said.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" the doctor asked as she crossed the room and shook his hand. "I'm Grace Nakashima, and I'll be your doctor. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Steve said. "Maybe a little tired still, but otherwise I'm good."

"No sensory spikes?" she asked. She had some sort of device in her hand that was the size of a book, and she was tapping away on it, glancing up at him when he hesitated with his answer.

"I… never really had them," Steve said. "I adapted fairly quickly to my new body after Rebirth. Sleep was the only thing I really struggled with, but that may have had more to do with the fact that my best friend was deployed. We used to live together, after my Mom died, so I leaned on him for a lot."

Dr. Nakashima shared a look with Howard. "Do you think he might have been your Guide?"

"What's a Guide?" Steve asked.

The doctor shared another look with Howard, who shrugged. "Don't look at me. He's been awake for about an hour. You can't expect me to have explained everything he's missed in that amount of time."

"Right," the doctor said. She turned to Steve and took a deep breath. "A Guide is someone who's empathically sensitive—they can sense the emotions of others. They tend to gravitate to Sentinels, and act as a focal point for a Sentinels' gifts. They can also help to buffer out distractions that will alter a Sentinel's ability to function, and they can help bring a Sentinel out of a zone-out—that's when a Sentinel gets lost in one particular sense and can't find their own way back. Most Sentinels will find one Guide that is highly compatible with them, but as a general rule, most Sentinels can work with most Guides."

"I—have no idea if Bucky was a Guide or not, but I think it's safe to say he filled that role for me, based on your explanation," Steve said. "It was… difficult for me, after we lost him. But that was just as much emotional as it was physical."

"Okay," Dr. Nakashima said. "We'll want to do some testing to make sure you're in a good place with your senses. If needs be, we can find a Guide you can work with to help balance you out. How was breakfast?"

"Breakfast was good," Steve said, glancing at Howard, who was smiling.

"Thank JARVIS," Howard said. "Lord knows, the best I can do is burn water when sufficiently motivated."

Steve snorted. "I'll remember that." He turned to glance at the ceiling, feeling a little stupid for doing it, but neither of his guests seemed to mind. "Thanks, JARVIS. The food was great, and I especially liked the coffee."

"Thank you, Captain," JARVIS said. "I will endeavor to keep your supply of coffee fresh."

"So, when am I getting out of here, Doctor?" Steve asked, returning his attention to his current circumstances.

"I'd like to run those tests on your senses," she said. "But it seems like you're none the worse for wear for having spent so long frozen in ice. If you continue to stay balanced, I see no problem with releasing you to your quarters in the Tower in a couple of days. JARVIS can continue to monitor you after you're released, so as long as you agree to stay, I'll be fine with releasing you."

"I can agree to that," Steve said. "It's not like I have anywhere else to go."

The doctor reached out and squeezed his foot under the covers. "We'll all be here to help you acclimate to your current circumstances. Just don't hesitate to ask for help when you need it."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said.

"Good," she said. "Now, do you want to try to get some more rest?"

"I think I'm good for now," Steve said. "I wouldn't mind reading up on some of the things I've missed, if you don't mind."

"JARVIS can help you find what you need," Howard said as he stood up. "And he can get us a message whenever you need one of us."

"Thanks, Howard," Steve said.

"You're welcome, kiddo," Howard said. 

He winked at Steve and then headed for the door. Doctor Nakashima smiled at him and followed Howard out.

Steve took a deep breath, pushing the tray with the remains of his breakfast away. He leaned back, feeling slightly overwhelmed with everything he didn't know. He had 65 years to catch up on, and no idea where to start.

"May I make a suggestion, sir?" JARVIS asked.

"Please," Steve said, glancing up at the ceiling.

"Might I suggest that we start with Sentinel history and expand out to general world events as we go?"

Steve smiled. "That sounds like a good idea, JARVIS."

"Very good, sir," JARVIS said. 

The giant screen on the wall opposite his bed flickered to life, and a news reel unspooled before him. Steve shook his head, unsure if he'd ever adjust to this new century with all its marvels.

~o~


	2. Chapter 2

~o~

Two days later, Steve was spending the morning with Doctor Nakashima, testing his senses in some fairly interesting and inventive ways. He figure Tony had much to do with that; the machines they were using were as foreign as they were complex, but each had a purpose and the doctor walked him through each one until he had a good grasp of it.

He hadn't had what she'd called a zone-out all morning, a fact that seemed to baffle her no end. He wasn't sure if it was because they were common among Sentinels, or if it was because he'd been in stasis for so long, and theoretically should be having trouble with his senses.

"Alright," the doctor said, leaning back in her chair. "The only sense we haven't tested yet is sound. Are you up to it? I know it's been a long morning."

"I'm fine, Doc," Steve said amiably. "I never really did have problems with my senses. It helped that Bucky was always there to distract me. It was hard to focus too much on any one sense with him yammering in my ear or making faces at me."

"Well, sounds like he was the perfect Guide, then," Grace—which she'd insisted he call her, but he was still having trouble with that—said with a smile. "There weren't a lot of Guides online during the war. Most of the earliest Guides on record came online after the war, and mostly in response to the online Sentinels. Of course, records are spotty that far back, so we don't really have a good understanding of why that was."

"You sound like you know a lot about Sentinel and Guide history," Steve said. "How long have you been working for the Starks?"

"About five years now," Grace said. "The Starks have sponsored a lot of research into Sentinels and Guides, and being a Guide myself, I've always had a particular fascination for the subject."

"You're a Guide?" Steve asked.

"I am," Grace said, smiling. "My Sentinel is an engineering researcher with Stark Industries. He's actually the reason I agreed to come work for the Starks. Tom had wanted to work for SI for a while, and when Tony offered us the opportunity to work together, we jumped at it."

"Is that common?" Steve asked. "I mean, a Sentinel and Guide working together?"

"Extremely," Grace said. "Sentinels use their Guides to help keep their senses balanced. Most Sentinels and Guides work in the same field, and normally in close proximity to each other. Obviously, Tom and I don't, since I’m a doctor and he's an engineer. We make it work, but mostly because we only work a few floors away from each other. To be honest, if we worked any closer, I think we'd get on each other's last nerve."

Steve laughed. "Yeah, I can see that. Too much togetherness can be its own kind of torture. Bucky and I were like that from time to time. We just had to take a break, or else one of us would end up punching the other. Which was always a little unfair, because I was smaller before Rebirth, and he was smaller after. One of us always had to worry about hurting the other. Still, it always felt good to get it out."

"I bet," Grace said on a chuckle. "So, you still up for that hearing test?"

"I'm ready when you are, Doc," Steve said.

She set him up with headphones, which seemed particularly old-fashioned in light of all the technology she'd used to measure his other senses. He figured Tony just hadn't found a better—or more complicated—way to do it yet.

She tested his ability to hear sounds at all levels, his ability to filter out distracting sounds, and his skill at differentiating one sound from another. He'd never given any thought to how he'd used his hearing—or any of his other senses—so this exercise, like the others, was a revelation of what he was capable of, in addition to telling Grace—and presumably the Starks—where his strengths and weaknesses lay. He made a note to himself to ask her for the information so he could use it to supplement his training, once he was allowed to do so again.

He was just taking off his headset when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"I'm surprised Tony hasn't come up with some infernal contraption that he claims will do the job better than those old headphones."

Steve stood up and turned around to find Howard leaning against the wall just inside the door. He smiled, because he'd just been thinking the same thing. "I figure he just hasn't gotten around to it yet."

"Probably," Howard said, snorting. "The thing with my son is that he gets distracted easily. He had an assistant whose full-time job it was to make sure he leaves his lab for six hours every 24 to get food and rest. I hired her myself, and made sure she knew that under no circumstances would she be allowed to take orders from Tony."

"How'd that turn out?" Steve asked, chuckling.

"About how you'd expect," Howard said. "The kid bitched and moaned for a month straight. Six months later, he'd promoted her to CEO and asked her to marry him. She still chases him out of the lab, so I can't complain."

"Sounds like someone I'd like to meet," Steve said.

"That can be arranged," Howard said. "You want some lunch? I haven't eaten yet, and I figure you have to be starved by now."

"I definitely need food," Steve said, nodding. "Let me just check with the doc and we can go."

He turned to the door just as Grace walked into the room. "Just the person we wanted to see," Howard said, smiling at her. "How'd he do?"

"He did well," Grace said, confirming what Steve had expected. "No zone-outs or spikes. He's adept at using all five senses, despite no formal training." She turned to Steve and gave him a stern look that held a playfulness behind it. "I'm willing to release you to the apartment Tony has prepared for you, but if you struggle at all, you're to come back to see me."

"I will, Doc," Steve said.

"JARVIS?" Grace said, tilting her head toward the ceiling. "Please monitor Captain Rogers for general health and any sensory issues. If you detect any anomalies, please notify me at once."

"As you wish, Doctor," JARVIS said.

"Now," Grace said, reaching out to squeeze his arm, a pleased smile on her face. "Both of you, get out of my infirmary."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve said.

He followed Howard out of the room and down the hall to an elevator. The door swished closed and the elevator car moved smoothly, without so much as a lurch. It was fascinating how much even a simple thing like an elevator had changed in 65 years.

"I thought we'd have lunch on the terrace," Howard said as the elevator car sped along. "Give you a chance to experience Manhattan in a more controlled environment before you have to see it at street level."

"I could do with some sunshine," Steve said. He'd had floor-to-ceiling windows in his room, but he'd barely given them any thought because his first couple of days of consciousness in the 21st century had been taken up with research on Sentinels and Guides.

The doors swished open to reveal a sunlit terrace with a partial overhang. Near the railing there was a small table nearly groaning under the weight of the meal laid out. Four chairs and a cantilevered umbrella surrounded the table, with a sitting area at one end of the terrace, and on the other side of a raised dais, there was a putting green. Steve figured that was Tony's contribution.

They settled in at the table and served up lunch. Steve had no idea what some of it was, but it was plentiful and tasty, so he couldn't complain.

"You look like you're enjoying that," Howard said.

Steve looked up, seeing the amused smile on Howard's face. "Sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess."

"From the Army?"

"Yes and no," Steve said. "During the war, we had to eat when and as we could, because there were times when we didn't know when we'd be stopping for a meal again, but it actually comes from when I was a kid. Money was tight before my Mom died, and after… well, it wasn't much better. It made it easier to adapt to life in the Army, so I suppose it wasn't all bad."

"Most people don't understand what that's like," Howard said quietly. "My folks were poor, so I know all about taking what you get when you can get it."

"Can I ask you something?" Steve asked. He balled up his napkin and tossed it on his plate, taking a sip of the iced tea Howard had presented him with.

"Sure," Howard said. "What's on your mind?"

"What made you look for more Sentinels?"

It was something he'd thought about off and on as JARVIS helped him research Sentinels. None of the information he'd seen had said why they'd even started looking.

"Well," Howard said. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. "We had a whole team of folks who read through the various reports that the Army required, looking for anomalies and inconsistencies, or any reference to technology that couldn't be explained. Even without Schmidt and HYDRA, the Germans were still interested in anything that could give them a tactical advantage. We wanted to keep ahead of that, and send troops in where necessary."

"Makes sense," Steve said.

"A couple of the reports that were flagged for me to review had stories of soldiers who were described as having extremely sensitive senses, plus enhanced speed and strength. Peggy and I both thought that sounded familiar, and that it bore further investigation. What we found were the first online Sentinels. At first, we called it The Captain America Effect, because they were all so much like you. It wasn't until later, when the research started to pile up, that we realized what you and the others really were: Sentinels. The Army didn't really know what to do with them, so we started collecting stats and creating a database. That's how the SSR, and later SHIELD, became the registry of record for Sentinels."

"And Guides?" Steve asked.

"We didn't find the first Guides until a few years after the war," Howard said. "By then, the Army, and in turn SHIELD, didn't see the value in tracking Guides. They would go where the Sentinels went, so it was deemed to be unimportant to create a registry for them."

"That seems short-sighted," Steve said, shaking his head. "I mean, how can you protect Guides if you don't even know who they are?"

"Peggy and I made the same argument, but to no avail," Howard said. "To most people, Guides are simply an extension of the Sentinel. The powers that be could never see what a Guide can bring that's more than just being a focal point for the Sentinel. They can read the mood in a room, or in a specific person as well as help calm people down in an emergency."

"Is that why it's so nice when Doctor Nakashima touches me?" Steve asked. He blushed a little, because it almost felt like he had a little crush on her, but it was probably just a reaction to her being a Guide.

Howard chuckled. "You're a Sentinel, Steve. You're already pre-disposed to respond to a Guide, though not every Guide will feel so good to you. A lot has to do with compatibility. Still, for the most part, because people usually respond positively to Guides, they can interact more easily with people than Sentinels. Normal folks tend to be intimidated by Sentinels, which doesn't happen with Guides."

"Are there more Guides than Sentinels?" Steve asked.

"There wasn't always," Howard said. "It's something we've struggled with for a while. We’ve seen a decline in online Guides at the same time we're seeing an upswing in mental illness. We think that there's a portion of those diagnosed as schizophrenic or bipolar who are actually Guides that can't cope with being online without a Sentinel. But because there's no method of tracking Guides, we don't know for sure."

"Why do all this, Howard?" Steve asked quietly. "You're not a Sentinel or a Guide, so why put all this effort into understanding the phenomenon?"

Howard's gaze shifted to the view beyond the terrace as he spoke. "I felt like I owed you that. Because the Army had no idea what to do with you until you forced your way into the war. And they would have kept on demanding more from you without even stopping to think about what it might do to you. You sacrificed your life to save us, Steve," Howard said, looking at him. "We owed it to those like you to make sure that they were protected."

"Thank you," Steve said. "It means a lot to me that you did that."

"Here you are."

Steve looked over to see Tony walking across the terrace toward their table. "Hey, Tony."

"You guys aren't the easiest to find," Tony said, settling in at the table and stealing a cherry tomato from the salad. "I keep telling dear old Dad here that I provide a perfectly good, air-conditioned building for him to use, but he doesn't listen."

"The view is amazing, and I still need sunlight every once in a while," Howard said, his tone of voice suggesting he'd said the same thing many times before. "Besides, last I checked, I'm still an adult."

"Doc Grace says you passed the tests with flying colors," Tony said to Steve, basically ignoring his father. "As if there was any doubt. No sensory spikes? No issues?"

"No," Steve said. He shared a look with Howard, who shrugged. "I've never had problems with my senses, so I wasn’t surprised."

"You'll have to come down to my lab so we can figure out some training exercises to help you train your senses." 

With that, Tony snatched another tomato and then headed back inside.

"What was all that?" Steve asked, totally confused.

Howard sighed. "Almost twenty years ago now, I was on a visit to the Middle East, doing some field demos for some of the surveillance tech that the military was buying from us. We were attacked by terrorists, and I was taken hostage. Tony spent the four months I was being held building a suit of armor he calls Iron Man. He used it to rescue me. Ever since then, he's been a little… militant about my safety."

"Wow," Steve said, leaning back in his chair.

"I try to be understanding about it," Howard said. "It was hard on him. He'd just lost his mother, and couldn't face the prospect of losing me too. I don't blame him for wanting to keep me safe, so I just go along."

"Well, he's got me now," Steve said. "I promise I'll help keep you safe. I owe you that much."

"You don't owe me anything, Steve," Howard said.

Steve didn't want to argue, so he just let it go. But he made a note to talk to Tony about it later. If nothing else, it would help ease Tony's mind.

~o~

The next morning, Steve had woken up in his own bed, in his own apartment, for the first time in a long while. Not that his surroundings were familiar at all, even though he'd spent the evening before wandering through the various rooms, investigating and examining the whole place. Scent-marking, Doctor Nakashima had called it.

The apartment itself was huge, taking up one whole floor near the top of the Tower, much bigger than the one he'd grown up in. It made him feel small by comparison, something he found amusing since he hadn't felt small in a few years. There was a well-appointed kitchen and a comfortable living room with another of those huge televisions like the one he'd had in his hospital room.

His favorite room in the apartment had been the bedroom, though. A huge bed with a mountain of pillows facing floor-to-ceiling windows, all done in rich blues and browns, with plenty of leather and metal. So very different than anywhere else he'd ever lived, and yet comfortable just the same. And the bathroom… well, he felt like he'd stepped into a posh hotel.

It was almost too much, but JARVIS had assured him that too much wasn't a word combination that Tony understood, and it felt a little ungrateful to complain, so he'd just enjoyed the experience and vowed to find a way to repay the kindness the Starks had shown him.

That morning, he'd gotten up and made breakfast, then sat down in front of the TV with his coffee and had JARVIS continue catching him up on the history he'd missed.

"Sir," JARVIS said after they'd been at it for about an hour. "Ms. Potts is on her way. Shall I let her in?"

"That's Tony's girl, right?" Steve asked. At JARVIS' affirmative, he smiled. "Let her in."

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a slim redhead in a green business suit and high heels, carrying several shopping bags. "Good morning, Captain. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," Steve said. He rushed across the room, taking the bags and setting them on his couch. He turned back to his visitor, finding her watching him with an amused smile. He held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Potts."

"Please, it's Pepper," she said, shaking his hand. "Or Virginia, but I have to tell you, my mother's the only one who still calls me that."

"Pepper," Steve smiled. "Please, call me Steve." He turned to the couch and looked at the bags. "What is all this?"

Pepper crossed the room and started rummaging through the bags. "I figured you'd want something besides sweat pants and t-shirts to wear, so I bought a few things." She turned back to him with a package in her hand. "Now, tell me: do you prefer boxers or briefs?"

Steve sputtered for a moment, feeling his cheeks flame red. No one had been able to catch him that off guard in a long time. Not since Bucky, who'd loved teasing him until his face turned crimson from forehead to chest.

"Nevermind," Pepper said, waving him off. She put the package aside and reached into one of the bags. "You're probably a boxers guy. Let's stick with what works. Now, JARVIS gave me your measurements, but if anything doesn't fit we'll exchange it for a different size."

"You really didn't have to do this, Ms.—Pepper," Steve said. "I mean, I thought you were Tony's CEO. You must have more important things to be doing than shopping for me."

Pepper turned to him, smiling as she reached out and laid a hand on his arm. Her touch was soft and light, and surprising considering no one else had touched him besides the doctor.

"You're our guest, and you're in an unfamiliar place and time," she said kindly. "Besides, people always underestimate the value of a little retail therapy. Trust me when I say I enjoyed every moment of it."

"Alright," Steve said, won over by her kindness and honesty. "But at some point, I'd like to pay you back for all this."

Pepper snorted as she turned back to the bags. "Good luck getting Tony to take your money." She turned back, a t-shirt and a pair of jeans in her hands. "Now, why don't you try this on and tell me how it fits."

~o~

An hour later, he'd tried on everything she'd brought with her. She'd made sure to bring a wide variety of clothes, from casual to business, since she didn't know what he'd be doing in the long-term, even if his only immediate plans were to keep up with the research JARVIS was doing for him.

Pepper had also brought something she called a StarkTab with her. Steve had recognized it immediately as the same device that the doctor had been using to track his medical chart. Pepper had told him he could use it to read, watch videos, listen to music or 'surf the web'. He had no idea what that last one was, but it sounded interesting.

They'd settled on the couch, Steve seated at one end with Pepper stretched out with her feet in his lap. He'd opened what JARVIS had called a news aggregator and was perusing the current headlines when Tony walked in and sat down without even knocking. Steve found it amusing.

"Should I be worried you're trying to steal my girl, Cap?"

Steve looked up from his tablet. "She brought me clothes. And this tablet, which I'm told is one of your designs."

"Steve Jobs didn't have a clue what he had on his hands when he sold the first iPad," Tony said, shrugging. "Frankly, I took his design and made it better across the board. And then he has the temerity to accuse me of actually stealing the specs. Like I need to steal from that two-bit charlatan. I can design circles around him. He's just mad because I have more money than he does."

"No, he's mad because you're not impressed with him," Pepper said, looking up from her own tablet. "He made that huge donation to the Stark Foundation, and you sent him a thank you on a post-it note."

"Yeah, well, he tried to steal away my best employees," Tony said. "Speaking of which, why aren't you off somewhere running my company?"

"I am running your company," Pepper said, holding up her own tablet. "Besides, the board is full of a bunch of entitled twits, the geeks never read my emails, and the less said about HR the better. Frankly, the only people in this company I can stand are the lawyers."

"That's because I went out and found twelve of the meanest, most vicious land-sharks that Harvard has ever produced, just for you," Tony said, smiling.

Pepper pointed at him. "And that's why I love you. You always get me the best presents."

Steve just watched the two of them interact with amusement. They were like an old married couple. In some ways, they reminded Steve of him and Bucky, back in the old days before Rebirth.

"So, was there something you needed, or did you just come down here to harass me about not sitting in that office you hate?"

"Fury's been burning up the phone lines trying to reach me," Tony said. "I have JARVIS giving him the runaround, but it won't last."

"And Fury is…?" Steve asked, frowning.

"Director of SHIELD," Pepper said. "Not exactly Tony's favorite person, despite all the tech and weapons we've designed for them."

"As for why he's been calling, I can only guess it's about you," Tony said. "Though how he found out about you is a mystery. I've been keeping our search mostly off the radar, for a lot of reasons, most of which begin and end with Fury being a lying lair who lies."

"So, you don't trust him, even though you're doing business with him," Steve said. It confused him, but that was just one of many things in this new era that he didn't really understand.

Tony shrugged. "Their money's just as good as the next government agency's. Plus, they don't try to tell me how to run my company."

"No," Pepper said, "they don't try to tell me how to run your company. And even if they did, you'd tell them all to go f—"

"Hey, now," Tony said. "No need for that language. Steve's an innocent. We don't want to corrupt him."

Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony. "You do remember I was in the Army, right? All that newsreel footage… none of it was real, or at least, not about the real me. Captain America was just a role I played, not who I was."

"So you're saying that my fantasies of you and the women on the USO tour are probably closer to the truth than the Captain America comics my dad insisted on buying?" Tony asked, a bit of a salacious grin on his face.

"Probably," Steve said. He shrugged when Tony's mouth dropped open. "There wasn't much to do on the tour. I'm not saying I was… well, let's just say that I was never wanting for company."

Tony threw his head back and laughed. "That is just about the best thing I think I've heard today. Possibly all week. The propaganda Golden Boy romancing the skirts off the USO performers, all the while portraying the kind of innocence we haven't seen in this country in a hundred years or more."

Steve shook his head, unwillingly amused by Tony's outburst. "So, what do you think we should do about Fury? I assume he's not going to stop calling until he's gotten what he wants."

"My guess is he's trying to confirm that we've found you, likely so he can exert some sort of claim," Tony said, leaning back and putting a foot up on the coffee table. "When the SSR folded into SHIELD and became their de facto science division, they took ownership of all the tech and IP the SSR had accumulated. That would include what remained of Erskine's research, after my father plundered his office and took the most important parts."

"Howard did… why?"

"He says he did it because the research was incomplete, that it was a fluke that it worked on you," Tony said quietly. "I think he did it to protect you, and others like you who are too damned idealistic for their own good. Better to control who gets access so he can control who they used the serum on next. Which was no one, by the way. Howard buried it so deep they still haven't found it."

"So, he's trying to get to me to get my blood," Steve said, making the connection. "He's hoping to get a sample of the serum from my blood. Why go through all that trouble? Don't they have Sentinels at SHIELD? I mean, to hear Howard tell it, after the war he found dozens of Sentinels, and more come online every day. What good would the serum do now?"

"Give him an army of Sentinels with a pre-existing loyalty to SHIELD," Tony said. "At least, that'd be my guess. Trouble is, there's something hinky going on at SHIELD. Don't know just what yet, but something's not right. I did a deep-dive on their systems and found lots of firewalled data, departments that only exist on paper and yet have budgets big enough to fund a small country, and agency personnel travelling to locations where there are no known SHIELD facilities. That alone makes me wonder what's there that I don't know about."

"You hacked SHIELD?" Pepper asked, sitting up to spear him with a heated gaze. "Do you realize the kind of trouble you could get into if you get caught?"

"I'm not going to get caught, Pep," Tony said, winking at her. "Besides, is it really hacking if someone on the inside gives you access?"

"Who do you have inside SHIELD that would be willing to give you a backdoor into the agency's mainframe?" Pepper asked.

"That is information on a need-to-know basis, and right now it's better if you don't know," Tony said. "Suffice it to say I have a contact who's loyalty is to the Sentinel and Guide population first, and SHIELD second."

"You think they're in danger?" Steve asked. "The Sentinels and Guides in SHIELD?"

Tony wobbled his head. "Yes and no. I think if there are bad elements in SHIELD, they wouldn't be able to make a move on a Sentinel without it drawing the wrong kind of attention. But, Sentinels are also driven to protect the tribe. If they sense something's wrong, they might draw the wrong kind of attention, which might get them reassigned to some third-world backwater where they might get killed just by doing their jobs. Again, not something that would go unnoticed."

"And how does that tie back to Fury being a lying liar who lies?" Pepper asked.

"Don't know yet," Tony said. "It could be coincidence, or it could be he has no idea that there may be a couple hundred foxes in his henhouse."

"And the serum?" Steve asked.

Tony shrugged. "Don't know why he's so interested in that either. He's got Sentinels in the agency, so why he'd go looking for a way to wake up latent or dormant Sentinel genes is beyond me."

"Unless it's not him," Steve said. "You said he has foxes in his henhouse. Maybe it's one of them pursuing the serum. I mean, you said it yourself: Sentinels loyal to their cause. Whatever cause that might be."

"Point," Tony said. "All this is just speculation, though. We'd have to sit down for a chat with the uber-spy to really know what's going on."

"Then let's do that," Steve said. "One way or the other, we need to know what his plans are."

"He's not actually going to tell you what he's planning, if he's planning anything at all," Pepper said. "He's not a movie villain; he's the director of a national security agency."

"All bad-guys like to monologue, Pepper," Tony said. "Makes them feel important."

Steve snorted. "Schmidt did it, twice."

Tony laughed. "I can totally see that. All the newsreels made him out to be a moustache-twirling villain from a Saturday afternoon matinee."

"But one with unlimited power, which was worse," Steve said. "Did you ever find the Tesseract? I'd have to assume it ended up not far from where the plane went down."

"We found it," Tony said. "Maybe ten years after your plane went down. SHIELD tried to find it for years before eventually giving up. We've got it in a vault on a deserted island somewhere that nobody knows about. It's as safe as we can make it."

"Good," Steve said, nodding his head. "That kind of power shouldn't fall into the hands of someone like Fury. Even if he's pursuing the greater good, it's still too easy to be corrupted by it."

"Agreed," Tony said. He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. "What say we pay a visit to SHIELD HQ and see what the Spymaster Extraordinaire has to say?"

~o~


	3. Chapter 3

~o~

Steve had been amused to realize that the Starks didn't just have a private plane, they had a very large private plane. It had a large cargo bay at the back, which currently held a limousine and a lab that could be isolated from the rest of the plane. Above that, there was a lounge area and pods for sleeping, plus a fully-stocked kitchen. Tony had private quarters on the next level, not far from the cockpit. And of course, JARVIS had been installed on the plan as well.

They'd flown down to Washington DC the morning after their conversation. Tony hadn't wanted to wait, and Steve agreed. Not knowing what Director Fury was looking for was unnerving, but Tony had assured him that the Starks were prepared to fight to keep him out of SHIELD custody, which went a long way towards settling his nerves.

The flight had been short and uneventful. The plane was far less noisy than the ones he remembered from World War II. He supposed that enough time and technology could improve anything, but it felt like the transformation had been immediate, like something out of a science fiction novel. It made the whole thing seem so unreal, but Doctor Nakashima seemed to think that he'd adjust. Steve wasn't so sure.

Their driver was a man called Happy Hogan, who normally accompanied Tony wherever he went, acting as driver, bodyguard and assistant all in one. His nickname seemed particularly appropriate, since he was always smiling. He'd unloaded the limo once they'd reached DC, then loaded them into it and headed for something Tony called the Triskelion. 

As they got closer, he got a close-up look at SHIELD's headquarters. Three towers in a cluster formed the center of the complex, but Tony had said there was much more underground, including a hangar for something he called a helicarrier. Steve had no idea what that was, but he could guess. It sounded amazing and unreal, but then again, so much in this new world did, so maybe that wasn't as much of a surprise.

They pulled up in front of the central spire. Tony lowered the barrier between the driver and passenger compartment. "Happy, you stay with the car. We shouldn’t be too long."

"Are you sure, sir?" Happy asked, turning around to look at them through the opening. "I don't know if I trust those guys."

"I've got some extra insurance," Tony said, patting the briefcase beside him. Steve had to wonder if he'd hidden a gun in the briefcase.

"Ah," Happy said, laying a finger on the side of his nose, as if he understood something Steve didn't. "I'll keep the car idling, just in case."

"You do that," Tony said. He opened the door and made to step out, turning to look at Steve. "You ready for this, Cap?"

"As I'll ever be," Steve said. He slid across the seat and stepped out of the car, adjusting his uniform as he did. Tony had insisted on providing him with a vintage Army uniform, complete with ribbons and rank insignia. To own the truth, it was the first time since he'd woken up that he felt comfortable in his own skin.

They headed into the building, and were almost immediately joined by two people, a man with short, spikey hair and a bow with a full quiver of arrows slung across his back, and a woman dressed all in black with flaming red hair and aquiline features. Tony nodded to both of them, but didn't say anything as their escorts shadowed them all the way to the elevator and up to the top floor to the Director's office. 

Tony just walked in, completely ignoring the woman sitting at the desk in the ante-room. Steve cast an apologetic smile her way, but only got a shocked stare in reply. 

The office was huge, with a wall of glass on one side, a large glass conference table in front of the windows and a large glass desk, behind which stood a large, black man with an eyepatch and a leather trench coat, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"Stark," the Director—presumably Fury—said. "Nice of you to stop by, but we don't have a meeting scheduled."

Tony set his briefcase down and sat in the only vacant seat in front of the desk. He nodded at the man sitting in the other chair—he was middle-aged, with a receding hairline and an immaculate suit, but he also had an air of danger around him that made Steve automatically respect him.

"You were driving JARVIS crazy, calling so much," Tony said as he sprawled negligently in the chair. "So, I thought maybe I should come down here and see what all the fuss was about."

Fury flicked his eye in Steve's direction, then looked back to Tony. "Either you've been hanging at Comic Con, or you neglected to tell me you'd found my asset."

"Director Fury, meet Captain Steve Rogers," Tony said, waving a hand dismissively. "Steve, Director Nick Fury of SHIELD, and his deputy, Maria Hill."

"Sir, ma'am," Steve said, nodding. 

He stepped behind Tony, watching as the man and woman who'd met them in the lobby flanked him, the man leaning against the wall while the woman stood near the desk. Steve looked at the woman flanking Fury—Maria Hill, Tony had called her—her dark hair and fine features drawing him in immediately. She stood rigidly, her hands clasped behind her back, watching the scene unfold with sharp eyes.

"SHIELD is grateful that you've found Captain America," Fury said. "But this is where your involvement ends, Stark."

"Oh, you're not keeping him," Tony said. "But you've been making a pest of yourself, so I thought we'd pay you a visit and see what's up."

Fury turned to the man sitting next to Tony. "Did you know he was coming?"

"I was notified this morning, after they landed," he said. "I sent Barton and Romanov to meet them and escort them here. I would have informed you sooner, but there were other matters you wanted to discuss."

Fury harrumphed. "Whose side are you on, Coulson?"

"As I've said many times, we protect the tribe," Coulson said.

Steve's attention perked up. He'd heard Howard use that same term—the tribe—which made him think that at least one of them was a Sentinel. He'd wondered why he'd relaxed, just a little, when their two escorts had showed up. Now, at least, he had a better idea.

Fury frowned, then turned to Steve. "Captain, we'll need to talk about your involvement with SHIELD. There are some areas where we'll be able to use your skill set."

"Are you asking me, or ordering me?" Steve asked. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Because frankly, my enlistment with the Army ended over 60 years ago, and as far as I know, I've never signed a contract with SHIELD. I don't appreciate being ordered around without even the courtesy of asking."

"That serum that created you was developed by the SSR, which is now part of SHIELD," Fury said. "I think that gives us some claim on you. The world has changed, Captain. We like to develop every advantage we can."

"I appreciate that things have changed," Steve said. "However, I've been away for 65 years. I'm in no way prepared to join SHIELD in support of a mission that I don't understand."

"Is this your doing?" Fury asked Tony.

Tony held up his hands. "He's fully capable of making his own decisions. I've had very little to do with it. It's interesting, though, that you think I might. Exactly what do you think is going on here?"

"I think that you and Howard have been looking for the Captain for decades," Fury said. "To what end is the question. Because he'd be no use to you or your company."

"But he'd be of use to you," Tony said. "Just like he was during the war, when he sacrificed his life to save New York and the rest of the world. You'll forgive me if I'm a little more sanguine about just throwing people at problems with no regard to their own safety."

Fury sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whatever you might think of me, I hope you don't think I'd willingly sacrifice a peerless asset like Captain America for no good reason."

"I think, Director, that you have an infestation," Tony said. He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a sheaf of papers that he tossed onto the desk. "I'd send you the e-copy, but I have a feeling you'd be dead by morning if I did."

"What's this?" Fury asked. 

Hill reached over and picked up the top sheets. "It's a list of names. Our people. What is this?"

"That is a list of people you can't, under any circumstances, trust," Tony said. He sat up straighter, his whole demeanor changing to the business executive he'd claimed to be. "I've had JARVIS doing a deep-dive on your people. There's a whole lotta shit going on around here that has nothing at all to do with SHIELD's mandate."

"You hacked SHIELD?" Hill asked. "You do know that's a federal offense, right?"

"I didn't hack SHIELD," Tony said. "But you go right ahead and report me to the Feds. I have a whole floor full of lawyers that haven't seen a good legal fight in ages."

Hill passed some of the sheets to Coulson, who scanned them quickly. "Garrett is on here," he said, more to himself than to the room at large.

"Figures," the man against the wall said. "I've been telling you for years there's something not right about that guy."

"Just because you don't like him doesn't mean he's a bad guy, Barton," Coulson said.

"And just because you do like him doesn't mean he's a good guy," Barton retorted. "I've always gotten a creepy vibe off him, and I'm not even a Guide."

"What kind of vibe?" Hill asked.

"The guy's a liar, for one," Barton said. "He doesn't normally talk to me, and I haven't had a mission with him or his team in years, at his request. He says it's because he can't work with a guy who has no respect for authority."

"Well, you don't," the woman—Steve figured she was Romanov—said.

"I—okay, you may have a point," Barton said. "But seriously, I'm the best sniper this agency has, and he specifically asks for anyone else but me on his missions, when everyone else goes out of their way to make sure I'm available before they even get to the planning stage."

"Still doesn't make him a bad guy," Coulson said.

"We can debate good guys versus bad guys later," Fury said, breaking into the conversation. "What I want to know is what you hope to accomplish by telling me any of this."

"What do I hope to accomplish?" Tony asked. He leaned back in his chair, affecting an air of casual disregard. "First of all, I'm suspending all contracts with SHIELD until further notice." Fury opened his mouth to speak, but Tony held up a hand, effectively shutting him up. "I will not allow any StarkTech or weapons to fall into the hands of bad actors. That happened once, and it nearly cost my father his life. As he's a founder of this agency you love so dearly, I'm inclined to err on the side of caution instead of hoping it all comes out alright."

Fury scowled, but refrained from comment. Steve thought it had probably taken a monumental effort to stay silent; Fury didn't strike him as someone used to being dictated to.

"Anything else?" he asked instead.

"As a matter of fact, there is," Tony said. He checked his watch, then looked back up at the Director. "As of about half an hour ago, SHIELD is no longer the agency of record for Sentinels. All records pertaining to online and latent Sentinels will be transferred to The Stark Foundation forthwith. That means immediately, in case you were wondering."

"How did you pull that off?" Hill asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I know people," Tony said, shrugging. "And unlike SHIELD, I have no vested interest in getting something out of Sentinels or their Guides. You've criminally squandered the resources at your disposal, and you're further putting them at risk if you ignore the rather large problem I've just disclosed to you. Now," he said, reaching into the same coat pocket and pulling out a slim plastic stick, "that drive has everything I've found so far on the shady goings-on within SHIELD. Read it, don't read it, but don't come crying to me when your agency burns to the ground because you couldn't be bothered to clean your own house."

Tony stood up and buttoned his coat. "And I'm taking Captain America with me."

Fury opened his mouth, as if to refute… any of it, but firmly shut it again. He eyeballed the thing Tony had called a drive, which Tony had dropped on his desk as he stood up. He scooped it up off the glass and scowled at it as if it alone were responsible for his bad day.

"Come on, Steve," Tony said, turning for the door, picking up his briefcase as he went. He paused with a hand on the knob. "If I were you, Director, I'd find someplace safe to hide. Things are about to get messy, and you probably don't want to be around to see it."

"What are you going to do, Stark?" Fury asked in a low, dangerous tone.

"Me? Nothing," Tony said, smirking. "I wouldn't be at all surprised to find Congress taking a more active interest in your little agency. After all, I did have to give them a good reason to take the Sentinel Registry away from you."

With that, Tony pulled the door open and strode out. Steve chuckled as he followed the man out of the room, Coulson, Barton and Romanov hot on his heels. 

~o~

They reached the elevator and waited silently. Steve wondered if it would really be that easy; if Fury would really let them go without protest. Hill joined them, hands tucked behind her back as she waited for the elevator car to arrive.

Once the doors slid open, they all stepped inside. Tony hit the button for the ground floor; the elevator car barely lurched as it sped down.

"You know, you could still come to work for me," Tony said. "I was serious about the offer."

Hill sighed. "And I was serious when I said I was fine where I was."

"With Fury?" Tony asked. He looked up, not meeting her eyes as he spoke. "You saw what happened in there. He's got bigger problems than what to have for dinner tonight. Things are about to get ugly, and I'd hate to see you go down with the ship out of some misguided loyalty. He's going to try to save the agency, even if that's not the best course of action. Can you really trust him to do the right thing right now?"

"I—I'll consider it," Hill said. "But that's not a yes."

"It's not a no, either," Tony said, grinning as he looked at her. "Admit it, you can't resist the idea of coming to work for me, can you? Unlimited budget and all the excitement you can stand? I told you, we're going to take national security private and get shit done. You definitely don't want to miss that."

Steve was watching her reflection in the elevator door, so he caught the slight twitch of her lips that spoke to suppressed laughter. It showed a closeness between the two that he wouldn't have believed from watching them in Fury's office. 

The elevator dinged and they stepped out into the lobby. Most people ignored them, but some were watching their progress across the rotunda. It made that spot between Steve's shoulder blades itch in the same way it had during the war. Unease was building under his skin, but without a clear target, he couldn't do anything. He was reassured to see Coulson, Barton and Romanov just as hyper-vigilant as he was.

They stepped outside, and several things happened at once. Maria Hill grabbed her head and bent over, nearly collapsing right into Steve's arms. He cradled her body to his as he eased her to the ground.

"What just happened?" he asked the others.

"Nothing good," Coulson said as he glanced around. "If I had to guess, I'd say empathic overload, but I didn't think—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Steve spotted a group of armed men moving towards them at a run from the other side of the building. Tony dropped his briefcase on the ground; it opened up and he stepped inside. Steve watched in shocked amazement as armor crawled up around his body, encasing him in something he figured must be the Iron Man suit that Howard had mentioned. 

Tony flipped up the visor on the suit. "Get Hill into the car and head for the plane. I'll take care of these jokers. Coulson—"

"We'll cover their exit, Stark," Coulson said.

He ran towards a convertible car Steve hadn't noticed before that was small, sleek and red, Barton following behind. A motorcycle came screeching around the corner, Romanov jogging up to meet it.

"Go, now!" Coulson shouted as he jumped behind the wheel and fired up the engine. Barton hopped up to stand in the passenger seat and started firing arrows at what had to be SHIELD forces attempting to take him by force.

The Iron Man suit catapulted into the air, firing some sort of energy blasts at their pursuers. The SHIELD operatives who'd been preparing to fire at them turned their attention to Tony and Barton, allowing Steve to focus on the unconscious woman in his arms. He turned to look at the car, intent on getting Hill out of the line of fire, only to find Happy holding the limo door open. 

Steve scooped her up and folded himself and Hill into the passenger compartment, the door shutting behind him as Happy raced around the car. Bullets impacted the car, but the car itself seemed to take no damage, behaving more like a tank than a car as it repelled the weapons fire that had broken out around them. The car roared to life before Happy had even settled behind the wheel, and JARVIS' voice could be heard giving instructions.

"They have scrambled a helicopter to intercept the vehicle, sir," JARVIS said. "I've deployed counter-measures and augmented the shielding."

"Make sure the plane is ready to taxi as soon as the limo is aboard," Tony's tinny voice said through the speakers in the car. "Don't wait on me. I'll catch up in the suit."

"Very well, sir," JARVIS said.

"Where are the others, JARVIS?" Steve asked, turning behind him to see Romanov dart past on the motorcycle. Any other day and he'd probably be asking to take it for a spin, but right now he had other concerns.

"Agent Romanov is ensuring our exit route is clear," JARVIS said. "And Agents Coulson and Barton are protecting our rear. Sir is flying above, keeping the assholes off your back, as he says."

Steve couldn't help it; he chuckled. "ETA to the airport?"

"We should be there within ten minutes," Happy shouted from the front seat. He deftly navigated them around slower cars even as he yelled at them to get out of the way. Steve was impressed; Happy Hogan was certainly much more than he appeared. 

True to his word, they were pulling into the cargo compartment of the plane with minutes to spare. Coulson parked his car right beside the limo, and Romanov's motorcycle slid between them as if it had always been planned that way. 

Steve stepped out of the vehicle and lifted Hill into his arms once more. He was worried that she still hadn't regained consciousness, but he wasn't a doctor, so he couldn’t even speculate on what was wrong with her. The cargo door began retracting immediately, and the plane started to move just a moment later.

He took Hill up the stairs and settled her in one of the sleeping pods. He reached out and brushed her bangs away from her eyes, earning himself a little buzz that had him snatching his hand back in surprise. He stared at it for a moment, then at her before he closed the pod door and settled into a seat on the large, circular couch in the main area. 

Coulson, Barton and Romanov were already seated, awaiting take-off. No one spoke through the tension in the air. Steve leaned back and closed his eyes. Even though the flight would only be a couple of hours, it was going to feel longer as he considered all the questions flying around his head.

~o~


	4. Chapter 4

~o~

The plane ride back to New York was pure torture for Steve. He'd tried to sit quietly in the lounge area, focusing on his breathing and trying very hard not to think about anything. He found himself cataloging the scents and heartbeats of everyone on the plane, until he was fairly certain he could find each of them if necessary, no matter where they were.

Finally, he'd given in to the instincts that had been screaming at him since they'd left the Triskelion. He went to Hill's pod and crawled inside, pulling her into his arms and burying his nose in her hair. Her scent surrounded him, jasmine and vanilla, and something that smelled like clean linen underpinning it all. It reminded him of his own mother's scent, speaking of comfort and safety and home.

No one had said anything when he'd refused help getting Hill into the limo for the ride to Stark Tower, nor had they questioned him when he'd accompanied her to the infirmary. Doctor Nakashima had promptly banished him from the room, letting him know in no uncertain terms that Hill was now her responsibility, and that she'd contact him as soon as she knew more. He didn't miss the fact that Barton and Romanov followed him out of the room, nor that Coulson was allowed to stay. 

So, he'd gone to his quarters, pulled off the uniform, which he left in a pile on the floor, and took a long, hot shower. It didn't do much to quell the panic stirring up inside him. He couldn't hear her heartbeat anymore. He knew she was in the same hospital room he'd been in, but that was no comfort because it meant that she was completely isolated from him.

He'd pulled on fresh clothes, barely paying attention to what he was wearing, and had proceeded to pace the floor in his living room until JARVIS had offered him the video feed from Hill's infirmary suite. It had calmed him down, but not by much. He'd figured he was due for a visit soon; from whom he couldn't have said, but he expected at least Tony and maybe Howard to come check on him soon.

What he hadn't expected was Tony, Howard, Pepper and Coulson to invade his rooms, nor had he expected them to wait almost a full day. He'd fallen asleep on the couch in the wee hours of the morning, but now light was streaming in through his floor-to-ceiling windows. He rubbed his eyes as his visitors made themselves comfortable.

Pepper set a tray down on the coffee table. "Breakfast. Eat. Doctor's orders."

Steve gave her a wry grin. "And if I said I'm not hungry?"

"Do you really want to find out what it's like to make Grace angry with you?" Howard asked. "Because, let me tell you, that woman has needles, and she isn't afraid to use them."

Steve chuckled. "Fine, I'll eat. Smells good, anyway."

"Thank you," Pepper said. "I don't normally cook, but I think we all know you'd starve yourself waiting for word from Medical. Now eat up."

She settled down beside him and poured a cup of coffee for him and herself from the coffee service Coulson had brought with him. He smiled his gratitude, and dug in, finding himself hungrier than he'd expected. He kept an eye on the screen as he ate, watching the medical personnel as they tended to their patient.

Steve slowed down when he'd worked his way through most of his meal. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was, but he was grateful that Pepper had insisted.

"I apologize that we were never introduced yesterday," Coulson said. "I'm Agent Phil Coulson, Guide. My Sentinel is Clint Barton, whom you met yesterday. The other Sentinel with us is Natasha Romanov. She's currently unbonded, but I normally step in as her Guide when necessary."

"It's nice to meet you, Agent Coulson," Steve said as he nodded at the other man. "I sort of guessed that one of you must be a Sentinel. Something about being around someone like me is… familiar, I guess is the best word."

"I'd imagine this is all a bit disconcerting for you," Coulson said. "We were, frankly, surprised to find you still alive under the ice. I watched you for a while, before you woke up."

Tony snickered. "Smooth, Phil."

Coulson frowned at Tony. "We all took turns watching over you, Tony included. We didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without someone with you to explain your circumstances."

"Thank you. It was… disconcerting to realize that so much time had passed," Steve said. He leaned back, sipping at his coffee cup. "I can't imagine how I would have reacted if I'd been left to wake up alone in a strange place."

"As I said before, we protect the tribe, Captain," Coulson said.

"So, that makes you Peggy's son," Steve said. "I guess I can see a little of her in you. Your mother was a great woman and a good friend."

"I like to think so," Coulson said, smiling sadly. "I have an update for you on Maria's condition, if you'd like to hear."

"Please," Steve said. He tried not to let his desperation show, but he thought maybe they could all see right through him. 

"Doctor Nakashima says Maria's resting comfortably," Coulson said. "She woke briefly last night, and Grace was able to talk to her about what's happened and what her next steps will be."

"Ah, I must have missed that," Steve said. "I fell asleep on the couch."

"You were tired," Pepper murmured. "No one blames you."

"I felt like I should have been there, in the infirmary with her," Steve said. It was distressing to be that sure of something but have no idea why or even what to do about it. "When I touched her, on the plane, I could feel a little buzz under my skin. Kind of like when you were a kid and you'd scoot your socked feet across the carpet and then touch a doorknob."

The others in the room shared a look, but it was Coulson who answered. "That sounds about right."

"What does it mean?" Steve asked.

"It means you have a high degree of compatibility with Maria," Howard said, nodding. "Makes sense, really. She came online rather suddenly, and that level of empathic overload tends to indicate a powerful Guide. You being a powerful Sentinel, well, that's a good match. And given how you behaved on the plane…"

Steve blushed. "I couldn't help myself. I felt like I needed to be there, beside her." He took a deep breath. "So, she's a Guide, and we seem to be compatible. I'm still not sure what to do with that."

"Sentinels and Guides function best when they're bonded," Coulson said. "The Guide helps balance a Sentinel's senses by acting as a baseline, while the Sentinel gives the Guide a focus for their empathy. That symbiotic relationship forms the basis of the bond. You'll want to talk to another Sentinel about how your instincts will play into all this. I'd suggest Clint—Agent Barton. As a male Sentinel, his experiences will be closest to what you'll go through."

"Alright," Steve said, taking a breath. "What about Agent Hill? Has someone talked to her about all this?"

"Doctor Nakashima spoke with her last night," Howard said. "She said she'd drop by in a bit. Apparently, Maria gave her permission to talk to you about her condition."

Steve raised an eyebrow. That was… interesting. "Did she know she was a Guide?"

"No," Coulson said. "Or if she did, she kept it to herself. We've known each other for years, and she's never mentioned it. Testing isn't mandatory, so it's possible she declined when she joined SHIELD. The intake process is designed to identify potential latent Sentinels and Guides, but it's not foolproof."

"There's a test?" Steve asked.

"A lot of Federal agencies do genetic testing," Pepper said, "in part to help them prepare for sudden online events like the one Maria went through, but also to help identify possible future resources."

"Sentinels with built-in loyalties," Steve said. "Does Stark Industries test their employees?"

"Most folks who work for us have been tested, but it's all voluntary," Pepper said.

"We have a reputation as a Sentinel-friendly company," Howard said. "We like to cultivate friends in all different walks of life. Never know when you might need someone."

"An what you said to Fury," Steve said. "The thing about Congress giving the Stark Foundation the Sentinel Registry. What's that all about?"

"I've been working on that for a while," Tony said. "I've never much trusted Fury, but even more, I've never trusted the idea of a Federal spy agency having control of a resource like Sentinels. It's too easy for SHIELD to take advantage of the Sentinels, and without an outside agency to advocate for them, there's no checks or balances." He paused, smirking. "Not that SHIELD has done a great job of advocating for Sentinels working for other agencies, either. The Army practically made Bruce Banner an indentured servant, and Fury didn't even bat an eyelash."

"Have you found him yet?" Coulson asked.

Before Tony could say anything more, the door opened and Doctor Nakashima walked in She was dressed in maroon scrubs with her white lab coat thrown over the top. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept for a while.

"Doctor," Steve said as she sat down at the other end of the couch.

"Oh good, you had breakfast," she said.

"Pepper brought it for me," Steve said. Pepper reached out and rubbed his shoulder; he smiled at her, grateful for the easy comfort between them. "So, how is Agent Hill?"

"She had a rough night, so I've sedated her," the Doctor said. "Coming online as suddenly as she did is always traumatic, but I have to think that what happened yesterday would have taxed even a low-level Guide. As I understand it, the Triskelion has some sort of EM field that disrupts theta waves. I think that's why she didn't come online until after you all stepped outside. The combination of being in the presence of a compatible Sentinel and going from a shielded building to an unshielded area is likely what triggered her to come online."

"Most online Guides don't even notice it," Coulson said. "It feels a little like one of your senses has been blunted, but you get used to it."

"So, what happens now?" Howard asked.

"Well, that's up to Maria," Doctor Nakashima said. "Because of the way she came online, she'll probably do best if she's bonded fairly soon. It'd be a different story if she'd come online gradually, as most Guides do. She'd have had the chance to build her shields and get used to the empathy. As it is, I think it'll be hard for her to return to SHIELD without the protection of a Sentinel. Her only other choice is a drug regimen that'll blunt her Guide gifts, but most Guides who go on the drugs eventually end up bonding because they can't cope with how the drugs make them feel."

"What drugs?" Steve asked.

"Our research shows that a combination of anti-psychotics and theta blockers will effectively shut down a Guide's empathy," Howard said. "But they have to be administered in large quantities, and most Guides will feel sluggish while they're on them. I've heard them describe it as feeling like they've been wrapped in layers of cotton. After a while, most will decide to take their chances rather than feel like they're a spectator in their own life."

"Sounds awful," Steve said. "Did Agent Hill say what her choice would be?"

"I asked her not to make any decisions until she'd given it some thought," Doctor Nakashima said. "She should be coming off the sedatives soon, and we'll see how she's doing. It could be a couple of days before we'll know if she's strong enough to leave the room she's in. Even then, she may have to go on the drugs if another alternative doesn't present itself."

"I'd like to talk to her," Steve said. "If she's willing. I feel… drawn to her, and I can't explain it. I at least want her to know that I'm open to talking about bonding, so she knows she has an alternative besides the drugs."

"Alright," the Doctor said. "I'll let her know. But just so you know, you don't have to do this right away. You can get to know each other first. I don't want you feeling pressured at all."

"Thanks, Doc," Steve said. "My instincts are telling me it's the right thing to do, and I learned a long time ago to follow what they say."

~o~

"Hey, Cap."

Steve stopped, the towel he'd been using to dry his hair dangling uselessly in his hand. There, sitting on his couch, watching some sort of cartoon on the big tv, sat Agent Barton.

"Do any of you ever knock?" he asked as he padded across the floor. 

He tossed the towel on the coffee table and sat in the armchair. He noticed a small box in Barton's hand, with a myriad of buttons and switches that Barton was smashing as he bobbed and weaved his body in time to the pictures on the screen.

"Son of a bitch!" Barton yelled at the screen. Steve turned to see a car upside down, a mangled mess as other cars sped past, with the words 'game over' flashing on the screen. "Sorry. I've been trying to beat Tony's score for days. I think the bastard's rigged this level; Phil thinks I'm just a sore loser."

"I… have no idea what any of that means," Steve said, something he'd said a lot since he woke up.

Barton flashed a quick smile and held out his hand as he tossed the box onto the coffee table. Steve shook his hand, completely disarmed by the obvious power radiating from the man, in direct contrast to his affable demeanor.

"I'm Clint Barton, Agent Coulson's Sentinel," he said. He waved a hand at the screen. "That's a video game. Tony got a pre-release copy of the latest Gran Turismo. He's been taunting me with his latest scores for days, but I've been a little busy. Can't quite figure out how the little fucker's beating me. Seriously, I'm a Sentinel; my reflexes are awesome."

Steve just chuckled. "Do you play these games often?"

"They're actually better training for your reflexes than you'd think," Barton said. "Not that Phil believes me when I say that. I'll teach you how to play. Maybe he'll believe you."

"Sure," Steve said. "It looks interesting."

"So," Barton said. He leaned back and put a booted foot up on the edge of the coffee table, "Doc Grace says you've probably found your Guide. I'm guessing you have questions, which is why Phil sent me to you."

"The whole concept of a Guide is still a little baffling, if I'm being honest," Steve said. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "I mean, Bucky helped me a lot during the war, but I'm not sure if you'd call what he did being a Guide. We certainly never bonded. At least, not that I'm aware of."

"You'd know, believe me," Barton said. "It's kinda hard to miss." 

Barton got up and headed toward the kitchen; Steve got up to follow. "Like this… intense need to be near her? To protect her, even if she's perfectly capable of doing it herself? Is that how it starts?"

"Oh boy," Barton muttered. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the carton of orange juice. He pulled two glasses out of the cupboard without even having to ask which one and poured them each a glass. He must have seen Steve's confused frown, because he shrugged. "All the apartments are laid out the same, including which cupboard has the dishes. I have no idea why; Nat's is laid out the same way."

"Romanov?" Steve asked. "You all live here?"

"We all have quarters here," Barton said. He put the juice away and turned back, leaning against the counter as he cradled his glass in his hands. Steve sat on a barstool and took his own glass. "Howard is Phil's stepdad, so we stay here sometimes. Nat just sort of… followed us here, so Tony gave her a place of her own. It's nice, having a place to go that's protected from the outside world. We can rest here, in a way we can't anywhere else."

Steve knew the feeling. During the war, he'd had the Commandos around him. There was nowhere more secure than in the heart of that unit, and Steve had basked in it. Living in the Tower was like having his old unit back; layers of security and now, with the addition of JARVIS watching over them all, it was even more secure. Instead of feeling isolating, it made him feel like he didn't have to be on alert all the time. It was… a relief.

"So, bonding," Barton said. He took a sip of the juice. "Your instincts are probably hammering at you by now, telling you to get down to the infirmary, to protect your Guide at all costs. Don’t' fight it; that's the way it's supposed to be. We protect them, they support us. It's give and take. Balance."

Steve exhaled slowly, letting go of the fear that his instincts were wrong. "So, what happens if she chooses to bond with me rather than take the drugs?"

"If she chooses you, congratulations are in order," Barton said, flashing a smile. "Maria's a tough nut to crack. She's independent and highly capable. Smart, sexy as hell—but don't tell Phil I said that; she's like a sister to him. You wouldn't ever have to worry about her; she can protect you about as well as you can protect her.

"But what I think you really want to know is, what happens in the room," Barton said. "Bonding isn't some spiritual ceremony where you sit in a room and meditate, and your katra meets her katra. I mean, you can do it that way, and there's no rule in the books that says you can't, but you have to be willing to follow what your instincts are telling you."

"So much of this is 'follow your instincts'," Steve said. "What if my instincts are telling me to—"

Barton laughed at the blush Steve couldn’t control. "Sorry. It's just—you're like 90-something years old and still blushing like a teenager."

"Back then," Steve said, taking a deep breath, "we didn't talk about sex. We had sex. Some of us had lots of sex. We just didn't talk about it. It's both harder and easier to find that society is willing to talk openly about such things."

"Fair point," Barton said. "So, there are two paths to forming a bond. As I said, you can spend time together and allow the bond to form slowly over a period of time. You'd still have to do the initial imprint, but after that it's just a matter of time and proximity."

"Initial imprint?" Steve asked.

"Basically, you imprint all five of your senses on her," Barton said. "Learn her by sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. And yes, it's just as intimate as you think it is. Most of the time, the imprint will naturally lead into sex, which is the other way to bond. You have sex, and your minds are blown open at the moment of orgasm. The bond literally just snaps into place and boom, you're bonded."

"Is one way better than the other?" Steve asked. If he had to guess, he'd say faster was better, but that was just a guess, influenced by his own instincts telling him to bond soon.

Barton shrugged, waggling his head a little. "There's been a lot of ink spilled on that subject. Some researchers say bonding via sex is the only way to achieve a deep, strong bond. Others say there's no difference at all, and it's personal preference. I think a lot depends on the type of relationship you have—or want to have—with your Guide."

"You mean if there's already attraction between you," Steve said. "That actually makes sense. If you're attracted to each other, then having sex to complete the bond would be natural."

"Right," Barton said. "Which isn't to say that a Sentinel and Guide that bonds the long way won't eventually have sex. Phil and I bonded over time, because we barely knew each other when we bonded. But we have a strong, deep bond and a strong relationship built on trust. I had trust issues when we met, so sex was out of the question, but over time, we fell in love. It doesn't always happen that way, but it happens a lot."

"So, what you're saying is I need to talk to Maria." 

"Well, yeah, but you were going to do that anyway," Barton said. "Just, don't feel like there's a right way to do this. It's enough that you want to. Let nature take its course, and the rest will take care of itself."

"Captain," JARVIS said, breaking into their conversation. "Doctor Nakashima has informed me that Agent Hill is ready to speak with you. Shall I connect you?"

Steve glanced at the tv, where the car was still upside down, the screen still flashing 'game over'. Barton rounded the counter and patted him on the shoulder.

"Just be honest with her," he said. "That, more than anything, will go a long way with her."

"Thanks," Steve said. He watched Barton leave the apartment. When he was gone, he put their glasses in the sink and returned to the living room. "Put her through, JARVIS."

The screen flickered to life, showing the same woman from a couple of days ago, but so much had changed. His instincts were still hammering at him, especially now when he could see her but not hear her heartbeat. She was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt—the same sort of clothes Steve had been given in the infirmary. Her hair was down, hanging in soft waves around her shoulders. She looked pale but determined.

"Agent Hill," Steve said, nodding at her. "Thank you for agreeing to speak to me."

"Captain," she said, nodding in return. "Under the circumstances, maybe you should call me Maria instead."

"Alright," he said. "Then please, call me Steve."

"Steve," she said, as if testing it out. He felt his knees go a little weak, just from the sound of his name on her lips. It was torture and sweet relief all at once. "Doctor Nakashima explained what happened to me. I—" she glanced off to the side, swallowing visibly. When she turned back, he could see the rawness in her eyes, as if her whole world had been turned upside down and inside out. "It's been something of a shock, coming online. I declined testing when I joined the Army. There are no Sentinels or Guides in my family, so I had no reason to suspect I might be a latent Guide."

"I'm sorry that this has been such a shock for you," Steve said. "From the little I know, it was partly my fault. Being in close proximity is probably what triggered you. I'd like to say I'm sorry for whatever part I played, but—"

"Please," Maria said, holding up a hand, "don't apologize. It's not necessary. I may never have expected to come online, but it's happened, and now I have to deal with it. Recriminations and anger won't help me do that."

"I know it's barely been a day," Steve started to say, then paused. He wanted to ask, but he didn't think he had a right to, no matter what his instincts were telling him.

"I hate the idea of taking the drugs," she said. "I can't do my job—no matter who I'm working for—if I feel like a zombie all day. I just—the idea of feeling so detached from the world around me sounds horrible."

"But bonding to a stranger isn't any better," Steve said. "No matter what my instincts are telling me, I would never force you into a bond that you don't want."

It physically hurt to say that, but he felt like it needed to be said. The relief on Maria's face was worth whatever pain those words had caused him.

"I appreciate that," Maria said. "But the truth is that I can't be all I'm meant to be as a Guide if I'm not bonded. Not to mention simply being able to function in a world that's threatening to overwhelm me nearly every day."

"How do you know what a Guide should be?" Steve asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"Phil is a good friend," Maria said. "We've talked about his experiences over the years. I knew him before he met Barton, so I know how he felt about being an online Guide without a Sentinel. Enough to know I'm lucky to have come online as a result of meeting my Sentinel. I suppose that's something."

"I… don't know what to say," Steve said. "I don't know how to make this easier for you. There's a selfish part of me that wants to charge down to the infirmary and—" He stopped and swallowed hard. "But there's a larger part of me that just wants what's best for you. So tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I'll make sure your wishes are followed to the letter. We can bond immediately, or over time, or not at all. It's your choice."

"He said you were a good man," Maria said, something a little like wonder in her voice.

"Who?"

"Phil came by this morning to talk," she said. "He said you were a good man, that his mother had always spoken highly of you. I mean, you're Captain America, so you'd have to be good—"

"Captain America was just a role I played," Steve said. "I mean, I've always tried to do the right thing, but Captain America was mostly made up. You should know that. I used to get into fights when I was younger, and I—well, let's just say I wasn't a saint."

"There was a war on, Steve," Maria said. "No one comes out clean. But I trust Phil when he says that Steve Rogers was a good man. Captain America was a symbol, but he wouldn't have been a very effective one if the man behind the symbol was an asshole."

Steve laughed. "Thank you. I've never heard it put quite that way, but I appreciate that you can see the distinction. Not many could back then."

"Come downstairs, Steve," she said after a moment's pause.

He didn't need to be told twice.

~o~

Doctor Nakashima was waiting for him when he got to the door to Maria's suite.

"I know I'm not telling you anything you don't already know," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "But, go easy on her. This has all been traumatic, and despite the fact that she's invited you in, she may still change her mind."

Steve hitched his hands on his hips. "I know. I only want what's best for her. If I'm not it, I'll go out and find someone who is. I can't say it won't hurt, but her wellbeing is more important than my hurt feelings."

"I think you two are going to be just fine," she said, smiling. "If you need anything at all, just ask JARVIS. He'll send for me if you need, so don't hesitate, no matter the time of day or night."

"I will," he said. "Thank you."

The doctor didn't say anything, just patted his arm and headed off down the corridor. Steve paused with his hand on the doorknob. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It felt like so much of his life had been leading him to this moment. But rather than being scared, he was hopeful. 

He turned the knob and walked through the door. Maria was standing at the windows, looking out on Manhattan. He took a deep breath, flooding his senses with her scent and tuning into her heartbeat with ease. Something inside him unclenched as he did, and he felt himself relax for the first time since this whole thing had started—had it only been a few days ago?

"I used to watch Phil and Barton," she said, not turning around. "I'm pretty sure they both knew I did it, but they let me think I was getting away with it." She paused, taking a deep breath. "The thing I'll never forget is how gently they always treated each other, like the other person was a treasure of immeasurable value. And the way Barton looks at Phil, like he's the center of his universe. I've never had that."

"And more's the pity," Steve said. He walked further into the room, still keeping his distance, but moving further into her space. "I think maybe the true gift in being a Sentinel or a Guide is knowing that there's someone out there who's meant for you. Knowing that, once you meet, you'll never be alone again."

He watched as Maria seemed to pull herself together, squaring her shoulders as she turned around. "I understand that you need to do an imprint on me."

"I'll only do as much as you're comfortable with," he said quietly.

Her gaze turned sharp as she moved from the windows to stand by the bed. "You'll do as much as you need to. I'm not going to be the reason your senses are unbalanced. I trust you, Steve."

"I—thank you," he said. "I'll try not to betray that trust."

He watched in a state of near-shock as she shed her sweat pants and t-shirt and climbed onto the bed. When she'd settled on her back, clad only in her underwear, he finally came unstuck from the floor. He kicked off his shoes and moved to sit down on the bed, looking his fill. 

She was beautiful. That was his first thought, and he blushed a little at how corny it sounded. Her skin was a dusky olive color, smooth and mostly blemish free. There was a crease across her left shoulder, just a slight pucker of skin that was darker than the rest. He reached out and traced one finger over the scar, feeling the raised edges and the rippled texture of damaged skin.

"Bullet about five years ago," she said quietly. Her eyes never left his face even as his eyes were riveted to the spot his fingers were touching. "I was covering an exfil. Guy got in a lucky shot. It bled like a stuck pig. I thought Phil was going to lose it, he got so upset."

"I'd have done the same," Steve murmured. "The smell of your blood… I'm not sure I'd have kept it together."

"I'm fine, now," she said, taking his hand and resting it over her heart. "Listen. Feel. I'm fine and I'm not going anywhere."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Steve asked. He looked into her eyes, finding calm acceptance there, knowing his own eyes had to be filled to the brim with his own panic and uncertainty. "By all rights, you should be running as far and as fast as you can in any other direction, and yet you're right here, with me, about to take a step off a cliff."

"I've never been one to live in a fantasy," she said. "I deal with what is, not what I might wish it would be. There's no point—I could run and hide, but at the end of the day, I'd still be a Guide, and I'd still need a Sentinel. Like I said, I trust you. From what I know about you, you're a good man. I think we'll be able to work together. As for the rest, it'll come in time. I'm willing to try, if you are."

He took a deep breath, allowing her scent to wash over and through him, settle him. He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He got up and crawled up onto the bed, stretching out beside her. He allowed his fingers to skim her torso, felt the ripples as her skin reacted to his touch. 

He leaned in, running his nose over her chest and down her belly, inhaling her scent, cataloging the changes as he moved lower. He was operating on instinct now, allowing himself to be guided by something older and more powerful than he'd ever experienced before. The first flick of his tongue drew a gasp from Maria, another escaping her at his low chuckle.

"All my senses, Maria," he said, reminding her of what she probably already knew. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she gasped out. "Just… surprised, is all."

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said. 

Instead of responding, she curled her fingers into his hair, not pulling, just resting there, her nails scratching over the skin drawing shivers out of him.

He slid down her body, engaging all his senses as he built a sensory image of her in his mind. He found more scars, more evidence of a difficult life full of danger. But rather than being put off or scared by it, he felt calm. These scars were proof that she'd survived, and he worshipped each one as the gift it was. 

The more of her that he took in, the more certain he was that he could find her, anytime, anywhere. He could feel something building between them as he worked his way up her body, from her feet back up to her head. It felt a little like the static in the air before a lightning strike.

He settled over her, cradled in the vee of her hips. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding out a rhythm against his. He pressed his nose behind her ear, taking a deep breath, drawing her scent into his lungs. Here, where shoulder met neck, it was strong and vibrant, the smell of clean linen mingled with jasmine and vanilla. A scent unique to her, and one he could find with his eyes closed in a crowded room.

Something within him urged him on, had him nuzzling the join of neck and shoulder, licking it in great swaths with the flat of his tongue. Without thinking about it, he sank his teeth into her shoulder, digging in, claiming her as his. She bowed up under him, and he felt it like a lightning strike; electricity arcing over his mind and through his body. His body locked in place, teeth still digging into her skin. 

Steve had no idea how much time had passed by the time he came back to himself. Maria was still clinging to him, both arms and a leg wrapped around him as they both breathed through the aftermath of… whatever that had been. He felt mild confusion, but he also felt settled in a way he hadn't since… well, since he'd had Bucky.

"You okay?" he asked Maria as he pulled back to look at her.

"I'm—yeah, I think so," she said, stammering slightly as she took stock. "What was that?"

"I don't—that's what all the research I did says bonding is like, but we didn't—I mean, we haven't even—"

Maria burst out laughing. "And yet, I think we just did. Bond, I mean. What are the odds?"

"If I may," JARVIS said, interrupting Steve before he could even form an answer.

"You have some information for us?" he asked.

"Only that, while it's uncommon, there have been reported cases of Sentinels and Guides bonding in an instant without the benefit of intercourse," JARVIS said. "There have only been two reported cases of such, and both pairs reported a deep level of trust between them in advance of the bonding."

"Huh," Steve said. He gazed into Maria's eyes. "Bonded. Are you okay with that?"

"I know you'll defend me to your last breath," she said, running a hand up and down his back. It was soothing, but he could also feel her pouring cooling calmness into his mind, which was odd but comforting. "I'm good with this."

"Me too," he said. "And I will. Defend you with everything I have. Always."

"Sentinel," she said, low and quiet.

Steve took a deep breath, feeling something settle in his soul. "Guide."

~o~


	5. Chapter 5

~o~

"Captain," Agent Romanov said as he approached her. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Steve said. "My senses are balanced and the training is going well."

Romanov nodded. "And your Guide?"

"Maria's great," Steve said, smiling. "We seem to get along really well. She's got this snarky sense of humor. I think maybe she's spent too much time around Phil and Clint, to be honest, because she sounds like them sometimes. But it's good."

"I'm glad," Romanov said. "Maria is a friend of mine as well. I'd hate to hear she isn't happy and settled."

"Is this a—what did Tony call it? A shovel talk?" he asked her, unwillingly amused. "Sentinel to Sentinel?"

Romanov gave him a coy smile. "This is a friend checking in on her friend. But now that you mention it, I'd hate to have to track you down if Maria were anything less than well taken care of."

Steve laughed out loud. "Point taken. I promise that I'll take good care of your friend, Agent Romanov. She's very important to me, so I'd hate to let her down. Or you, for that matter."

"I think, at this point, that you can call me Natasha," Romanov said.

"I'd like that, Natasha," he said. "And you should feel free to call me Steve. It seems as though we'll be working together from now on."

"Steve, then," Natasha said, nodding. "I look forward to working with you."

She shook his hand, then turned and walked away. Steve watched her go, shaking his head as a smile tugged at his lips. He hadn't had much of a chance to get to know Natasha; he and Maria had spent a lot of time training with Phil and Clint, because they were also a bonded pair. He was looking forward to getting to know Natasha, though. He'd heard she was amazing at hand-to-hand combat; he was honestly excited about testing that out. Clint had laughed at him when he'd said it, so he figured there must be a story there.

It had been nearly a month since he and Maria had bonded, and in that time they'd become inseparable. They'd spent the time training and getting to know each other. Doctor Nakashima had been surprised to find that they'd bonded during the imprint, but she'd quoted the same research to him that JARVIS had. They'd added it to what they already knew about Sentinels and Guides, and the process of bonding, but there was still so much they didn't understand. 

Today Tony and Howard had called a press conference to announce the Stark Foundation had become the agency of record for all Sentinels and Guides. They'd already had an influx of registrations; mostly Sentinels, but they'd seen an increase in Guides coming forward for testing and training. Howard was hopeful this meant there'd be less instances of mental illness. If they could get to them sooner, they'd be able to help them cope without the Guide descending into madness.

Steve had been dismayed to learn that the Army was still trying to replicate the Super Soldier serum that had woken his Sentinel gifts. One scientist had already been damaged in the attempt. The Stark Foundation had requested that all the Army's research on the serum be turned over to the Foundation. The Army had, of course, resisted, so the Foundation was in the midst of litigation to try to secure the materials. Since Congress had passed a law mandating that all Sentinel research be handed over to the Stark Foundation, Tony felt fairly certain they'd prevail in court.

Tony had also started searching for the scientist in question—Doctor Bruce Banner. He wanted to protect Banner from the backlash that was inevitably coming from the damage his alter-ego had done. Steve just wanted to give the man a home and a life, much like what he'd been given by the Starks. He thought maybe there were others that had been taken advantage of, but they'd have time to search for them all.

His eyes strayed across the room, picking out his friends from the crowd. Everyone in their tight circle was at the press conference: Phil and Clint, Natasha, Howard, Pepper, even Doctor Nakashima and her husband. At Tony's nod, he headed for the dais, taking his place behind and to the right of the podium, where Tony would stand to deliver his remarks. Maria stepped up beside him, and Phil and Clint took their places on the opposite side, along with Natasha. Pepper and Howard, with the doctor and her husband, were seated in the front row.

Tony stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat. "Good morning. I've called you all together to announce that the Stark Foundation has become the organization of record for registering and advocating for Sentinels and Guides, by order of Congress. We've already reached out to the Sentinels registered with SHIELD, and we've been in contact with Sentinels and Guides who have never registered. 

"Our mandate is simple: we protect the tribe. Sentinels and Guides do hard, dangerous work, and until now, they've gotten very little in return. Our goal is to provide them with shelter, assistance and training so they can use their skills and talents to help protect this nation we all call home."

Flash bulbs went off all around them as the reporters surged to their feet, each one hoping to be the first to get to ask a question. Tony surveyed the crowd, though Steve knew he'd already selected the first reporter. They'd talked about it at length, wanting the first question to be the one to drive home the point that the Foundation wouldn't be bullied by any government or agency, that they'd stand as a wall of protection around their charges, and that they would be fierce in their protection of the tribe.

Of course, Tony threw all that out the window when he chose the reporter from some gossipy website that Steve had been appalled to learn was still considered journalism.

"Elizabeth," Tony said. "Throw me a softball."

"You wish," Elizabeth said, smirking. "So, I have to ask: you're not a Sentinel, unless you've been hiding something from us. What makes you think you have a right to take over the protection of Sentinels in this country?"

"If I may, Tony, I'd like to answer this one," Steve said, stepping forward. Tony waved his hand at the podium as he stepped back. Steve stood behind the podium and gazed out over the crowd. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Captain Steve Rogers, Sentinel. I think I speak for everyone on this stage when I say that the Starks are perhaps the only people in this world we can look to for help protecting other Sentinels and Guides. They have, from the beginning, sought nothing more than our protection and wellbeing. They ask nothing of us, and give us shelter, training and resources in return. They have befriended us with no ulterior motives, something I can't say is true about any other government agency."

"But how to you know they won't take advantage of you in the future?" Elizabeth asked over the shouting from the other reporters.

"We can't," Steve said, much to the shock of everyone in the room. "But that answer would be the same no matter what organization we were talking about. I can only take the word of my friend, Howard Stark, at face value. Today, I believe that the Starks have nothing but our best interests at heart. If that changes in the future, we'll have to look elsewhere for our own good."

"And he'd do it with my blessing," Tony said, joining him at the podium. "I have nothing but respect for Sentinels and Guides, and can't foresee a time when our organization would take advantage of the trust they've placed in us. But if that happened, I'd be the first in line to hold the door open for them to leave. My father worked with Sentinels during the war, was in fact responsible for finding the first Sentinels in our armed forces. He's been working with them his entire career, and he's taught me to respect them as much as he does. But, if there ever came a time when we had to let them go, I'd do it, because it's what's best for them. You may not believe it, but it's the truth."

Steve stepped back, retaking his place beside Maria. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a light squeeze. He squeezed back, smiling at her before he refocused on the press conference. Tony was having a grand time bantering with the reporters, explaining the finer points of what the Foundation would be doing for the Sentinel and Guide community. He was, in essence, right where he belonged, at the center of the storm. 

Steve felt proud to be standing alongside him. He hadn't expected to find himself in this future he was now living in, but he couldn't say he regretted it. He'd found a Guide—the perfect Guide for him—and he was surrounded by friends who'd walk this path with him. 

He was going to be able to make a difference once more, which was all he could ask for at the end of the day. And that, more than anything, made it all worthwhile.

~Finis


End file.
